


kiss me hard before you go

by justkidding13



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:19:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justkidding13/pseuds/justkidding13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She didn’t notice the warning signs until it was too late. Now Kelley is leaving Sweden and Christen has a few small requests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me hard before you go

**Author's Note:**

> first fic. hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated!

She didn’t notice the warning signs until it was too late.

The constant zoning out, the nervous tapping of her fingers, the distant look in her hazel eyes that had become customary in the past couple of weeks. Kelley was uncomfortable. She was uncomfortable and Christen didn’t realize that until it was too late.

Now Kelley is packing her bags in the back room and Christen is sitting on the couch, reflecting on everything, fighting back tears and wondering how the hell she didn’t notice it all until now.

But she already knew. She had been so overjoyed, so stupidly, blindly happy that Kelley had been there with her that she didn’t even notice that Kelley wasn’t really _there_ at all. The blatantly obvious indications that something was wrong were masked behind the excitement and wonder she regarded her gorgeous, freckled, best-friend-with-benefits with.

Now Kelley is leaving Sweden seemingly just as soon as she had got there, and Christen is paralyzed. Paralyzed with fear that it’s all over. It’s all over and it’s all her fault.

Kelley’s reasons were hollow and when she told them to her it made Christen feel like someone had gutted her like one would gut a fish. Like her insides had literally been ripped out of her body.

_I just need a change, Christen._

A change. She had only been in Sweden a month and a half. _Coming_ to Sweden was supposed to be the change, not leaving.

But she _was_ leaving. Christen reminded herself of this fact as she heard the music softly drifting from Kelley’s turntable in the back room and the sound of her shuffling around as she packed her things. She was leaving and there was nothing she could really do about that harsh reality.

Somehow, though, despite the heartbreak, and the uneasiness, and the overwhelming feeling that everything was her fault, Christen had sort of accepted it all. Over the course of Kelley’s time in Sweden; during the kisses, while feeling the skin-searing touches of her fingertips, every time she woke up next to her, Christen had felt the tiniest bit skeptical. She knew it had to be too good to be true, that soon this fantasy would end and everything would go back to the way it used to be -- just friends. But she always pushed this to the back of her head, because Kelley would be asleep in her arms, her freckled nose twitching in her sleep and light brown hair tickling Christen’s face, and that was all too wonderful to doubt.

And every time Kelley whispered her name, raspy voice ripping through the darkness of the back room, Christen would hope against all hope that she was wrong in her doubts. That by some miracle it would never end, and Christen would finally, for once in her life, be completely and totally happy.

But Christen had lived long enough to realize that the universe didn’t really work like that, and when Kelley had announced her departure, Christen had been one part crushed and three parts screaming at herself, _I told you so._

Kelley’s flight leaves early the next morning and Christen had promised her a ride to the airport but she can’t be bothered with sleep now because all she can think about is everything she didn’t get the chance to tell Kelley. She would have, but she thought they had more time. More time to explore Sweden together and explore each other and how they really felt about each other. But that imagined time had abruptly ended and now Christen was stuck with a thousand words that she feared she would never get the chance to say.

And she could easily get up off the couch, and march straight into the back room, and grab Kelley by the waist and kiss her and tell her everything she had wanted to say since college. But Christen was stuck. Stuck on the couch and stuck in her mind, stuck under this veil of fear that Kelley was just messing around and would never be able to reciprocate Christen’s feelings, not truly. So Christen stayed put, running her fingers over the fringe of the blanket she was wrapped in and nursing her beer and staring at a television that she wasn’t really watching, deciding it better to stay quiet and unhappy for a little while rather than risking ruining everything and being miserable for the rest of her life.

But then she heard Kelley singing along to her record, loudly and out of key. Christen peered down the hallway to the back room and caught a glimpse through the doorway of Kelley clumsily pirouetting while folding a shirt, and suddenly all the emotions of the past month and a half rushed through Christen, an onslaught of feelings crashing down on her like a wave, and she found herself smiling uncontrollably at the sight of Kelley, and then she knew. She knew there was no way she could keep all this bottled up emotion from Kelley, and who cares if telling her risked ruining everything and being miserable for the rest of her life, because Christen knew she would be miserable for the rest of her life anyway, even if she didn’t tell her. Christen would be miserable either way and she didn’t care anymore because Kelley was dancing around the back room like a lovestruck teenager and she was so radiantly beautiful and she deserved the truth, no matter what she would do to Christen in response.

Christen knew very well she couldn’t tell her in person, and maybe that made her a coward, but she was past caring. She had gone from moping on the couch to having a plan, finding a way to put everything into words, and that assuaged any self-doubt.

Christen stood up and looked around. Meghan was snoring away in the room they shared, and Vero and Jenni were watching some Spanish soap opera in their room. Kelley was in the back. Christen was completely alone. Her eyes wandered to the typewriter sitting idly on the desk, and then her feet followed. She didn’t sit down at the desk; just stood over the device and brushed the dust off the keys, fingers eventually finding the little tag she still left attached to the release lever.

_to Chris -_

_write something for me_

_xx,_

_Kelley_

A memory flashed through her mind, momentarily interrupting the constant racing it had been doing up till then. She remembered Kelley stumbling through the door, covered in snow, holding a giant, heavy box and bearing a huge grin on her wind-chapped face. She remembered her own surprise and absolute delight and Kelley’s smug smile as she removed the cover, revealing an old, rusted typewriter. How did you know I wanted one, she had asked.

Because I know you better than anyone else, was Kelley’s reply.

Christen remembers brushing the snow out of Kelley’s hair and kissing her on the lips and whispering thank you a thousand times, and she remembers Kelley laughing delightedly, and most of all she remembers the warmth that came along with that moment.

A warmth she feared she would never feel again.

Christen pushed that thought aside. She went to the fridge, grabbed another bottle of beer, then sat down at the typewriter. She sat still for a moment, staring at the blank page, fingers hovering over the keys. Then she pressed the bottle to her lips, took a long sip, and began typing.

She got lost in the clacking of the keys, the feeling of forcing the buttons down, the slamming of the little letters onto the page. All of her emotions free flowing from her heart to her brain to her fingertips and out onto a piece of paper. A piece of paper that became two pieces, that eventually became three. She stopped only once, to turn on the desk lamp when the house had gone completely dark. She was tapping away at her keyboard so furiously that she didn’t notice Kelley turn off her music and turn out her lights, and she didn’t notice anything else for that matter, besides typos and when she was out of beer.

Finally, it was 3:26 AM and there were three empty beer bottles in front of her and she was sufficiently drunk and the letter was done. Her fingers ached but she hardly noticed it. She felt numb. Whether it was from the beer or the total baring of her soul onto a piece of paper that Kelley would eventually read, she didn’t know.

Christen gathered the three pages, stacked them together neatly, and then folded it into quarters. She turned out the desk lamp and stumbled as quietly as she could through the dark, out of the living room, past her own room, down the hall into the back. Kelley left the door open, as she always did, one of her quirks that Christen had found slightly annoying -- especially when Meghan had walked in one evening to ask if Kelley wanted some ice cream, only to find her and Christen in a compromising position on Kelley’s bed. But at this point in time, Christen was grateful for the clear door frame, so she wouldn’t risk waking Kelley when she entered.

Christen fumbled around in the dark for awhile before she found Kelley’s favorite jacket, a tight black leather number that had formerly been Christen’s back at Stanford before Kelley had “claimed” it for her own. She knew Kelley would be wearing it tomorrow, as it hung on the back of her chair, and Kelley always did that with her outerwear. Christen hesitated a moment before slipping the thick folded papers into the left pocket. She stole a glance at the shape of Kelley’s body in the bed, then tiptoed out to her own room, taking care not to wake Meghan as she crossed the room to her bed and fell asleep, fully clothed, as soon as she hit the pillow.

* * *

_Kelley Maureen O’Hara-_

_When you told me you were coming to Sweden, I didn’t believe you. When I asked why, and you told me you were coming to spend time with me, my disbelief multiplied itself by a thousand. But then, suddenly, you were here, and the look in your hazel eyes somehow made me believe every word you said._

_You couldn’t have been here more than a few days before we went out, Meghan and Vero and Jenni and you and I, and it all changed. We took some shots and played pool, and you beat me and I bought you a drink, and I beat you and you bought me a drink, and the drinks piled up and you pulled me closer and closer with each emptied glass. In the dim, smoky light of that dive bar, all I could see was you that night. You in all your pure, unbelievable beauty. And somehow we ended up in a musty corner and everything was in slow motion, and we were impossibly close, and you smelled like vodka and citrus shampoo when you leaned in to kiss me._

_When I woke up in your bed that next morning, I was sure it had all been something born from a drunken mistake, and that I should leave before I got hurt. But when I shifted to get up, you rolled over and pinned me down with your arm, and smiled at me sleepily through lidded eyes. “You won’t escape me that quick,” you told me, and then you kissed me again, and we were both sober this time, and with the light of the morning streaming through the dusty windows and our legs tangled together beneath the sheets I felt the happiest I had ever felt in my entire life._

_I know you know how I felt about it all while you were here with me. I know you know how I reacted to your early morning kisses, how warm you made me feel every time you looked at me, how I shuddered against you in the darkness of the back room at night. I know you saw the smiles and felt the goosebumps and understood the cause of the happiness that radiated off of me while you were here. I know this because you were the cause, and because you reacted the same way to me. But you don’t know that when we were back at Stanford, all those years ago, I wanted you in the way I had you these past weeks. I’ve wanted you in that way since we met._

_What you said that first morning after rings true, Kel. I won’t escape you that quick. In fact, I won’t escape you ever. The truth is, I’m in love with you, and I think I always have been._

_I just wish I had told you sooner. I wish I had told you sooner so I could’ve been let down sooner and felt the pain sooner and gotten over it sooner, although I doubt I ever will really get over it. I don’t know what I did to make you leave, Kel, but whatever it was I’m truly sorry and I never meant to drive you away. I’m sorry I was such an idiot and didn’t notice how subdued you had become, because if I had I would’ve asked and then maybe we would both have been spared this._

_The truth is, I was too happy to notice you were changing. I was so overjoyed that we were finally together in the way I had always dreamed of that I overlooked something that should’ve been obvious. It’s not an excuse and I know that, but it’s the truth, and I hope that’s good for something._

_But I didn’t notice the warning signs, and now it’s too damn late, and I hate myself for it._

_When you finally rejected my advances the other night, then promptly told me you were leaving, I woke up. I finally woke up from this dream I had been living in, a dream in which you felt the same way about me through and through. But now I understand your true intentions. I’m not mad at you, Kelley, just mad at myself, for letting myself believe that, if only for a month and a half, you loved me too._

_It’s in your hands now, Kelley. Whatever we had these past weeks, we can forget it all, if that’s what you want. We can paint over it like we painted over the chipping paint in the back room that one Sunday afternoon. We can wipe out something ugly in exchange for a clean slate, if that’s what you want. If you never even want to see me again, I don’t blame you. I personally can’t picture how we can go back to the way we were before after something like this._

_So it’s yours now. Do what you want with it. But I bestow this power upon you with a condition. A few conditions, actually. A few requests. You do what you want with this relationship as long as you can give me a few little things in return. Kelley, before you get out of the car, before you head to the terminal, before you get on that plane back to Jersey and leave me to my misery, please - kiss me hard before you go. Give me one last memory, no matter how bitter, to hold onto, because trust me, I’m going to need it. After that, we can wipe the rest out, forget it all, but please, one last time. Hard and on the lips and like you mean it. I hope you’ll mean it._

_My other request is that, no matter what comes of our relationship, you will remember me, always. Because despite what has transpired here in Sweden, we’ve had some pretty kickass times together, and they deserve to be remembered. God knows I’ll remember you for all eternity._

_I’m sorry you’re leaving, Kel. More sorry than I’ve ever been. But I want you to know that I’ve had the time of my life these past weeks and I owe that all to you. You make me feel like I can do anything and more, that anything is possible as long as you love me and believe in me. You are the most beautiful person on this planet, inside and out, and I am unequivocally, unabashedly, in love with you._

_I’ll leave it at that._

_Love Always,_

_Christen_

***

The car ride was subdued and ended much too soon for Christen’s liking. Despite the near silence, Christen knew these were her last few moments with Kelley, and she didn’t want them to end. Really, she just didn’t want them to be their last, period. The Drums blared softly from the car’s CD player, and _Please Don’t Leave_ was playing just as they pulled up to the curb. Appropriate, Christen thought as she stared at the woman next to her. Kelley was staring straight out the windshield, her face a mask of stone. She had her left hand in the left pocket of her black leather jacket, and suddenly Christen remembered the note and prayed that, if Kelley hadn’t found it by now, she wouldn’t pick now to discover it. But if Kelley was finding it for the first time, her face didn’t show it and she continued to stare straight out at the scene in front of them with a stony expression, her already prominent jawline clenched.

Christen waited, though she wasn’t really sure for what. Perhaps she waited for Kelley to say something, or to get out of the car and leave, but neither of those things happened, so she just sat there, waiting for nothing.

They sat in silence for so long that Christen thought (somewhat hopefully) that perhaps Kelley had missed her flight. But a quick glance at the car’s digital clock told her there was still time. However, she was cutting it close, and finally Christen breached the silence, telling Kelley in an even, diplomatic tone that she was going to miss her flight if she stayed here any longer. Kelley jumped a little at the sound of Christen’s voice, almost if she had forgotten she was there. She gave a slight nod, then unbuckled her seatbelt and moved to open her door.

But then she froze, and Christen could see Kelley’s left hand clench inside her pocket, and she could practically hear the paper crinkling, and just as Christen realized Kelley was very, very aware of the letter, Kelley whipped around in her seat, took Christen’s face in her hands, and pressed her lips to hers.

It was hard and passionate and everything Christen had asked for. As Kelley’s lips moved against hers, Christen tangled a hand in her hair and remembered. She remembered all the countless times in the past weeks Kelley had kissed her like that. She remembered each and every kiss down to the dirty details, when, where, clothes or no clothes. . . This one final kiss brought on an onslaught of memories, and that’s exactly what she had wanted when she tapped out her request much earlier that morning. She wanted to remember everything one last time before it was all over.

Before Kelley had come to Sweden, Christen had never understood why, in books, people described kisses to be short, but felt like hours long. But that was because she had never kissed Kelley before. Kelley made her understand more and more with every kiss, and this last one was no exception.

After this intangible short-but-long-feeling amount of time, Kelley broke off the kiss, thankfully less abruptly than she had started it. She pulled away slowly, registering one last gentle bite on Christen’s lower lip before separating completely. Christen was left breathless and staring hopelessly into Kelley’s deep hazel eyes that were glittering like amber diamonds in the light of the rising sun. Christen looked at Kelley and Kelley looked at Christen for another confusingly short time that felt longer than it really was. In Kelley’s eyes Christen thought she saw an emotion she hadn’t expected to find -- sadness. But before she could double-check whether she read that correctly, Kelley broke their eye contact, opened the car door, got her luggage from the back, and the next thing Christen knew she was watching Kelley hurry toward the sliding glass door of the Stockholm airport.

Despite the current situation, despite Kelley leaving and despite all the confusion the past weeks had brought; despite the sudden rejection and the painful despair and the fact that her heart felt like an open wound, Christen let hope spring in her chest as she caught a final glimpse of Kelley rounding the corner to the security line. Because, against all odds, Kelley kissing her back had felt like something much more than simply fulfilling a request.


End file.
